


sexy can i?

by rudeandginger



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Burlesque, F/F, How Do I Tag, Kara Danvers Doesn't Know that Lena Luthor Knows, Lena Luthor Knows Kara Danvers Is Supergirl, Pining Dorks In Love, What should I tag, crimefighting titties, kara is the softest, lena is a badass, lena still owns catco, lots of burly nonsense, nipple pasties, the author remains confused, what crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 11:40:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22672540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudeandginger/pseuds/rudeandginger
Summary: Lena keeps disappearing twice a month on the weekends. Kara wants to find out why, because Lena acts like nothing ever happened and she was merely busy with research. She tracks her to Coast City, but what Lena does there is beyond Kara's wildest imagination. And Kara finds out she has a limit on being pushed. She really, truly does.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 16
Kudos: 212





	sexy can i?

**Author's Note:**

> The burlesque shit with UST but a happy ending I banged out in less than a day that absolutely no one asked for, but fuck you I did it anyway. I'm sassy.
> 
> For purposes of this fic: DCU people read and consume Marvel comics/media just like we do.

"Hey, hey Mads," Rachel said, snapping in front of Lena Luthor's face, since she seemed far too lost in thought.

Lena jumped. "Sorry, Rach. What's going on?" She used the smooth, posh British accent she'd picked up during her time at boarding school. Here she was just Madison Parker. Mads to her friends, UK transplant and aggrieved junior accountant who liked to dance in lingerie on the weekend under the alias of Layla London.

"Show me what you're wearing tonight," Rachel begged. "You always come up with the best routines."

Lena laughed. "All right." She got up and unzipped the garment bag hanging on the wall.

Rachel whistled. "Damn! That's the sexiest version of that outfit I've ever seen."

"I did my best by it," Lena smiled, zipping it back up.

"You gonna do the wig and all, too?"

Lena sat back down on the stool in front of the dressing table and continued to pin her hair up. "What do you take me for, some sort of amateur, darling?"

Rachel snerked. "You better practice your golly-s and gee whizzes to stay in character."

"I refuse to speak to anyone in such a ridiculous manner, thank you," Lena replied as Rachel headed out the door. She blinked at the mirror, squeezing her eyes shut for a brief moment. One of the deep blue contacts she was wearing had slipped just an iota. Mads Parker had blue eyes, for sure. Her dark brown hair she couldn't hide from her fellow dancers in the troupe, but her demeanour was different enough from Lena Luthor's that no one would notice this far away.

Lena loved Coast City, loved the dance troupe, loved being Layla. It was -freedom-, truthfully. The freedom to be someone else. Anyone other than a Luthor. Someone who could glue novelty pasties over her nipples and put on a bra and two corsets only to remove them in under three minutes while an entire room full of appreciative people lost their shit every time she flung another item away for a cute kitten to pick up after she was done.

And speaking of pasties, it was time to start putting all that on now that her hair was done and her makeup perfect. Huge winged eyeliner, the biggest, most ridiculous false eyelashes on the market, and blue and red eyeshadow blending in the middle to gold. Her highlighter sparkled, and her lips were cherry red, dusted in gold powder and set with gloss. She looked nothing like her normal self. Which was just how she wanted it.

Lena got out her body glue and pulled the small box that held the pasties towards her. She had to get on with it, as her first outfit was fairly complicated. She wouldn't show the audience the pasties til her second and final number of the evening, but you couldn't be too careful with the outdated blue laws that governed the entire country, it seemed.

\--

Kara had figured out, over the course of a month's surveillance, that Lena always came here, to this bar. She wondered what on Earth went down here twice a month that Lena always came. Maybe an illicit business transaction? She shook her head. No, Lena would never. She doodled in her notebook, cocktail off to the side. She had to remember to keep sipping at it. And not to keep poking her pencil through the cap of the strawberry blonde wig she was wearing in order to scratch at it. She'd spent an hour fiddling with the lacefront to get it perfect and looking like her actual hair, so she had to be good and not mess with it.

"So, if you're going to stay in the bar, there's a show tonight so you have to pay the cover charge," the bartender told her. "And get a stamp. I won't blame you if you leave, but it's a hell of a good time if you ask me."

Kara blinked. "How much?"

"Ten. More if you want front row."

Kara shrugged. "What kind of show?"

"Burlesque. Pretty girls showing off what they got."

Kara frowned. "Like strippers?"

"Nah, not really." The bartender shrugged. "Some don't see a difference, but these girls are only in it to peacock around and show off, not give blowjobs or head to the champagne room. If you know what I mean."

Kara kept frowning. "Well, I mean, I guess. If it's fun."

"Trust me, it is." The bartender pointed to a woman setting up a cash box near the door. "Just get your stamp. I'll watch your drink."

Kara smiled. She could tell the bartender meant what he said, and that he had no ulterior motives regarding her. "Okay."

It was easy to pay the woman and receive a funny dinosaur stamp on her hand, and Kara was back to her seat in moments.

The bartender smirked. "Front row VIP? Guess you're curious after all."

Kara shrugged. "I'm into trying new things."

"You got much in small bills? It -is- like stripping in that you tip if you like what you see. But they pass around a giant martini glass and you put the money in there, there's never any touching."

Kara nodded. "That's good, I think."

"There's a married woman in the troupe. Her wife always makes half the audience jealous because -she- gets to touch her girl, but not anyone else. And she takes advantage of that. It's kinda funny to watch the bros squirm with their boners."

Kara snorted. "Maybe I shouldn't have gotten front row if I'm going to miss that."

"You won't miss it." The bartender smirked and went to see another customer further down the bar.

Kara checked her purse. She only had a few singles. So when the bartender came back to refill her vodka soda (whatever, this was a human bar), she handed him a twenty and asked for singles.

"I can tell you'll want to tip them all," he told her as he gave her the requested change. "Sure you don't wanna go for more? I'll buy back what you don't spend, give you bigger bills to go home with."

"You are way too into getting me to give strange women my money," she laughed, handing him another twenty.

"It's your first time. Go a little wild." He gave her twenty more singles.

People began filing in, clearly there for the show based on their shirts that had the burlesque troupe's logo on them, a swoopy bird curled around the words "Blue Phoenix Burlesque".

"Layla's Lookers," Kara read off several of the shirts. All of the shirts belonged to women.

"Layla's a popular dancer. British. Her regular lady fans named themselves that and they wear their shirts to support her. There's also Delia's Dolls and Prissy's Pretties."

"There are a lot of women coming in," Kara said in response.

"Always are. They like cheering on the dancers. Nobody in the troupe does this for a living, they do it because they find it fun. The lady fans love the fun, and they cheer for the dancers and their skills. Everyone feels empowered. Another reason it's different from a strip club."

Kara smiled. "Thanks for the primer. Guess I should go find a seat."

The bartender smiled back. "Make sure you let me know how it was afterward, okay?"

"I will." With that, Kara headed to the back of the bar where the stage was.

She was shown to a row of plush armchairs, and she sat near the aisle, just in case. As she sipped her drink, she relaxed her tight shield on her super hearing, in case she heard Lena. She hadn't heard anything all night thus far, but maybe the distraction of the show was what Lena needed to do whatever it was she was doing without too much interference.

Kara refused to believe that Lena would be involved in anything shady deliberately, however. No matter what anyone else thought, Lena was good, purely good. There had to be an explanation. Then it hit Kara. Maybe Lena attended the shows! Perhaps she was a Layla's Looker, or a Delia's Doll, or whatever that last one was. Kara smiled to herself. Lena would like this type of show. Feminist stripping would be something she'd patronize, for sure.

But the bar filled up, all the seats were taken, and there was no sign of Lena. Kara frowned slightly as the lights dimmed, and kept her super hearing sharp while a petite redhead stalked onto the stage wielding a microphone and wearing an impossibly skimpy outfit. Kara could see two bras, a corset, some excuse for a wrap around skirt that didn't remotely make it around her hips, some frilly can-can panties, stockings and a garter belt, and high heels.

"Well, hello!" the ginger yelled into the microphone, getting a set of whoops and hollers in response. "Welcome to our superhero revue. Are you ready for a night of celebrity crimefighting titties?"

Kara fought off a blush as the audience cheered in response. -Oh no. Someone's going to dress up as me. Or my cousin. Or both.-

"That's not good enough," the redhead admonished. "You don't sound excited to see all of our beautiful titties. I'm gonna ask you again. Are you ready?!"

Kara joined in the whooping this time, timidly. She was VIP front row, she reasoned. She had better act as excited as the women on either side of her, even though she would live in dread until whoever it was who was dressing as her came onstage and got it over with.

"That's better! In case some of you are here for the first time, we are Blue Phoenix Burlesque, and my name is Delia Danger. I'll be your emcee tonight, in between doing what I do best!" Delia turned around and bent over at the waist, revealing her shapely ass and thong underwear to the happiness of the audience.

Kara clapped along, an embarrassed smile frozen on her face. -Listen for Lena, listen for Lena.-

"We have some rules here at Blue Phoenix, so listen up!" Delia turned back around. "Number one, don't touch us. Never touch us. Layla London has a nightstick she stole off a bobby in her home country, and she has absolutely no problem beating the shit out of anyone who dares to touch us! If we touch -you-, take it as the gift it is."

Delia flitted back and forth on stage, laying out the rest of the rules. Cheer loudly, tip, and absolutely no photography or video during the show. Easy enough, rules for decent people.

"Are you about ready to get this titty show started?!" Delia yelled into the mic.

Kara and the crowd clapped and cheered in response.

"First up, it's Brittany Bubbles with a delightful take on Gotham's favourite redhead, Batwoman!"

A buxom woman in a neon red wig, bat mask over her eyes, and black cape swept onstage, waiting for her music to begin. She had on a black corset, black opera gloves, a bra that covered her breasts in bat wings, a knee-length skirt split up both legs, ripped fishnet tights, and chunky platform boots.

Kara watched, rapt, as the woman twirled around to the music, slowly removing the clothing until she was left in the bra, tights and boots, a black thong, and the mask by the end of the song. She almost forgot to dig a couple of singles out of her purse and drop them in the oversized martini glass as Brittany breezed by her, smiling at her clear discomfiture.

As Brittany exited, Kara heard her whisper backstage. "Cute newbie in the VIP section. Shy and ginger. Looks closeted. Let's really make her blush."

Kara's face froze. -Oh Rao. I'm in for it now.-

"Next up, we have a crowd favourite, her full name is Pristina Plumeria but you know her best as Prissy--"

The enthusiastic audience reaction drowned Delia out for a moment, and she waited before continuing.  
"Looks like we have a lot of Prissy's Pretties tonight in this crowd, huh?"

The crowd cheered again, and Kara cheered softly with them.

"Your very own Prissy is here, doing a very good impression of the fastest man alive, but she'll take her time with you. Please welcome The Flash!"

Kara fought back unexpected giggles as Prissy minced on stage wearing a very naughty interpretation of her friend Barry's Flash suit. But mirth was quickly driven out of her head as Prissy gyrated straight up to her and caressed her shoulders, mouthing the chorus of the song before pulling away to shake her ass -right at Kara-.

The woman next to Kara hooted at her brick-red face and poked her gently in the sides.

Kara managed not to squirm in embarrassment as Prissy kept dancing, finishing her song with a kiss blown at Kara.

"Well, looks like Prissy has a little girlcrush now," Delia purred as she took center stage again, delicately stepping around discarded items of clothing that a slim girl in a cute dress was picking up and tossing into a basket at her hip. "She always did like the gingers. Let's see where that goes as the night wears on!"

Kara didn't think there was any blood left in the rest of her body as she put three dollars in the glass for Prissy, who winked at her.

"Next up, all the way from the UK--"

Delia was interrupted again by raucous cheering.

"This crowd is just full of Lookers tonight, huh? All the way from the UK, she's so proud of that she even put it in her name, here's Layla London as the Green Lantern!"

Layla walked defiantly onto stage, chin up, green mask over her eyes and a bright green bob that was an exact match. Her black bra had the logo on either side, and there was a green bra underneath that. Her green corset had green and black ruffles peeking out from under it, and a green garter belt held up sheer black stockings. Green high-heeled ankle boots and black gloves completed the look.

As Layla began to move her hips to the music, Kara forgot how to breathe. This woman, more than the others, captivated her instantly in a way she couldn't explain. There was something regal, elegant, even slightly dangerous about her. The world narrowed then, as Kara couldn't keep up her super hearing surveillance and watch Layla. Especially not when Layla locked her gaze with Kara's, biting her lip and undoing the first buckle on her corset.

Kara still wasn't breathing when Layla leaned over her, making sure she saw her cleavage, wiggling her hips as she unhooked the black bra and let it drop in Kara's lap.

Then Kara saw a small mole on Layla's neck in a very particular place. -Rao's light! It can't be...-

She looked quickly up into Layla's eyes as the woman shimmied away from her. Blue eyes, almost indigo. Not Lena. Coincidence. Loads of women had moles on their necks, after all. That probably wasn't even a mole, just a freckle.

"We're going to take a little break now," Delia announced as Layla, stripped down to the green bra, frilly can-can panties, and the mask, flounced around with the martini glass. "Get more drinks! Spend more money! The merch table is open."

Kara dropped five dollars into the glass, looking up at Layla with what she hoped wasn't a completely dopey expression.

"Thank you, dollface," Layla purred, smiling at her. "First time to see us?"

"Yes," Kara faltered. Different accent, but she knew the pitch, the timbre, the subtle pronunciations. She was right, it wasn't a coincidence. Layla London was actually Lena Luthor, shaking her ass and getting half-naked in superhero outfits for fun. Kara's entire worldview took a -hard- left as she processed it; nothing in any of their interactions over the years had even -hinted- at anything like this.

"Keep tipping like this and we'll start demanding you come out every time." Lena--oop, Layla winked at her before moving on.

Kara breathed a sigh of relief as she put the discarded bra in the basket with the other pieces of costume the nameless girl was holding out to her. Lena hadn't recognized her. The wig and lack of glasses must be working well. She watched Lena hand the glass to Delia before disappearing backstage, and then she raced to the bathroom to lock herself in a stall and die of embarrassment.

She leaned against the wall, trying to reason with herself. Yes, she'd just seen the entirety of her best friend's ass. And her stomach. And basically all of her back. Lena's body was -perfect-, and no matter how she tried to squish it, Kara was gay as hell. At least, gay for her beautiful, talented, perfect-bodied bestie, who spent every other Saturday in a place hours away from National City so she could dance burlesque under another name.

"Hey, people gotta pee," someone demanded from outside her stall. "Shit or get off the pot!"

"Sorry!" Kara squeaked, flushing the toilet she didn't use and getting out, washing her hands needlessly before fleeing.

"How is the show so far?" the bartender asked as she came up.

"Great. I need a double. Possibly a triple," Kara babbled.

"You driving home?" He squinted at her.

"No. Getting a Lyft," she replied. Not true at all, but you can't just tell a human bartender at a human bar -I'm flying home and your alcohol doesn't affect me anyway.-

He nodded. "You know, if you really like the girls, they also accept shots as tips."

Kara blushed. "Do you know what they like?"

"Yes. Who would you like to send a little love note to?" He grinned as he poured her a triple of vodka and topped it off with just a whiff of soda.

"Um, all of them?" Kara stuttered. "I don't wanna play favourites."

The bartender laughed. "There are five of them tonight. Delia, Brittany, Prissy, Layla, and Koko."

Kara nodded. "Then five."

He smirked. "I'll put it on your tab."

\--

"You were right about that ginger in the front," Lena told Rachel, aka Brittany Bubbles. "Poor thing almost died when I took my first bra off. She's definitely gay, and probably has to hide it."

"That's just awful," Rachel replied. "Hopefully here she can be herself."

Alaina, alias Koko Luxe, walked over and smoothed Lena's wig. "What should I do for the poor chapstick baby dyke, do you think?"

Lena smirked. "Dunno. Suss it out when you get out there. She paid for VIP, and she tipped me five bucks, so I bet she'll drop even more on you, beautiful."

Alaina smirked back, running her hands across Lena's breasts possessively. The two of them had fun every now and again, and Lena had already packed away the implications of fooling around with a blue-eyed blonde in one of her emotional boxes. Alaina wasn't her girlfriend, or even very emotionally attached beyond being part of Blue Phoenix together. They weren't complicated, and Lena loved that about them.

"I mean, you're part of Act II without even being in Act I," Lena continued. "You've got the most to bring the audience."

Taylor, aka Pristina Plumeria, scoffed. "36L ain't all -that- much."

"Coming from the 38C, that sounds hostile," Alaina sniped back, laughter in her voice.

"Ladies, you're both too beautiful to breathe the same air as," Lena replied smoothly, dabbing more gloss on her lips. "Everyone in this bar is entirely too lucky tonight."

"Three minutes, ladies." Andi, the night's kitten who hadn't settled on a name yet, poked her head in. "Also Scott at the bar sent this round in for you. Says a blushing first-timer bought them."

"Oh my god, it must be that baby dyke," Mandy, aka Delia Danger, crowed, taking the tray and distributing the shots. "Top shelf, too. God love closeted lesbians."

Lena accepted her Van Horne gracefully. Most patrons bought her gin to go with her London persona. But the ginger baby dyke had clearly asked Scott to give them their favourites. And, she had a hunch. A very particular hunch, hatched when adoring but confused blue eyes had looked up into hers, a small scar next to her eyebrow. She didn't know anyone else capable of that beguiling confusion or the lack of self-awareness regarding said scar except her best friend, Kara Danvers. Who was also Supergirl, but Lena wasn't supposed to know -that- either. A devious smile spread slowly across her lips as she sipped the scotch. Oh, this was going to be -fun-. Kara had clearly gotten suspicious of her bimonthly "research rabbit holes" and figured it out. -Well. Time to really give her a show.-

\--

Kara settled back in her chair nervously. The dancers were out to make her blush, and blush she couldn't stop doing. Her only saving grace was that Lena hadn't recognized her with the wig on. -If I leave now, they'll get suspicious and disappointed. I have to watch the whole show.- Kara kept reminding herself of that. She would stay to avoid suspicion, not because she wanted to see her best friend's--

"Are you ready for some more titties?!" Delia was back on the mic. "I promise, you'll have a turn with me real soon. For now, let's dive into the realm of the comic books, rather than our reality. First off, she's stronger than all of us, she wears red white and blue, and godDAMN she looks good in tights. For the first time tonight, here's Koko Luxe as our favourite comic book hero, Captain America!"

Kara had never, -ever- seen boobs that big before in her life. A split second of x-ray vision for her curiosity revealed that they were indeed natural. And headed -right- for her.

Kara managed to keep breathing even as Koko darn near turned her dance move into a motorboat, and she knew her eyes had glassed over. But Koko also flirted with everyone in the front row in one manner or another, so she didn't feel as singled out as before. She tipped four dollars, unwilling to give the most to anyone but Lena, who didn't need it at all, but that wasn't the point.

"Hello," Lena purred into the mic. "Layla London here, taking over for Delia Danger while she slips into something...-far- less comfortable for your viewing pleasure."

Kara was rapt. The accent was flawless, and the poshness suited Lena, whether she was Layla or herself. And oh Rao, she wasn't wearing much at all. A silk robe was thrown carelessly around her shoulders, a Union Jack-patterned bra and panties with sheer red thigh-highs held up by a blue garter belt. Her blue heels were -impossibly- high, and Kara forgot how to breathe again. The bright blue hair cascading down her back made no difference to Kara, except for making her think of Lena with her hair down, which crap, there goes that breathing thing again, better do it before you're twigged as alien.

"In case you all forgot somehow in the middle of this loveliness, we don't make much money doing this -unless you tip-," Lena continued. "If giving us cold...hard...cash...offends your delicate sensibilities, we do accept drinks as well. I'd like to thank the darling anonymous patron who sent me some beautiful whisky. Keep it up, sweetheart, and I might feel the need for a... private...dance." Lena bared her teeth in what was only marginally a smile, more of a predatory warning. "And can you do better than this anony... mouse? I'll say they're a mouse since they were too quiet to tell the bartender their name."

Kara just kept forgetting to breathe as Lena kept talking in that -infuriatingly sexy- accent about shots and how the very best attendees would continue to buy them for her.

I'm quite partial to this next routine," Lena continued. "And I think she's just about ready. Could I get a little confirmation, my darling kitten?"

The slim girl who had been picking up the discarded clothing items nodded and disappeared.

"While I've got you...captive...with all my meanderings, how about a round of cheers for our beautiful kitten tonight?"

Kara cheered with everyone else, although she wasn't quite sure what it was about.

"For our new attendees who may not know, a burlesque kitten is a lovely girl who picks up the things we carelessly discard for your viewing pleasure. They're working up the courage to dance for you, and in this one's case, find just the -right- name, but in the meantime they're our priceless assistants," Lena said, smiling. "True power and adulation only come when you have capable assistants behind you, after all. Give our little girl another round of applause, and possibly a round of shots."

Kara cheered again with the rest of the audience, and vowed to send the kitten her own round via the bartender during the next break.

"Is that ridiculous diva Delia Danger finally ready to come out here and show us what she's been hinting at all night?" Lena demanded. "Yes? Good. Straight from the pages of your classic comics and your filthy little wet dreams--yes, we know you have them, don't lie to me, we have the late, great, sexy as fuck British hero Agent Peggy Carter!"

Delia swaggered on in a red hat, something that could barely be called an excuse for a blue suit, and a gun that was clearly a toy from the orange safety tip.  
Kara relaxed as Delia danced, and even smiled when she pretended to shoot a bad guy and then blow across the barrel as if it was smoking, right at her. She tipped four dollars.

"Absolutely magnificent," Lena purred into the mic after the song was over, Delia had unapologetically jiggled her way around the audience with the martini glass, and the kitten came to collect the scraps of material that had once been a costume. "May I present, as a fully realized concept, the British."

She took a dramatic bow as the audience, now completely tipsy and having fun, cheered raucously.

"Yes, yes darlings, I know. We do have quite a lot going for us. I'm going to introduce our next act, since now Delia and Koko are mostly likely acting out a movie scene in the dressing room. You know the one. Where Captain America and Agent Carter fade...to...black?"

The crowd lost it cheering, and Kara couldn't help but laugh. Rao knew she shipped that one. And Agent Carter with that one waitress. And Captain America with his best friend the Winter Soldier. Fictional people were so much fun to ship, honestly.

"Anyway, we -do- have a show for you, I promise." Lena grinned, and Kara was momentarily lost in the beauty of it. Better that she lose herself in Lena's smile rather than the view just below in that maddening flag-patterned bra, she told herself.

"We're sticking with the Avengers tonight, it seems. She's mean, she's green, and you wouldn't like her when she's angry. Please welcome Miss Brittany Bubbles, better known tonight as She-Hulk!"

Kara couldn't help but giggle her way through this one. Brittany was absolutely going for comedic value, pretending to "hulk out" of each item of lingerie. As she dropped her green corset to the floor, a tiny dark purple skirt fell over her ass. It covered nothing, it was just for fun, and she made sure to show it off completely by bending over multiple times, once directly in front of Kara. She clapped and grinned as Brittany waggled her ass to the music before rolling back up and turning around to shimmy her boobs in their barely-there bra. Kara could see something just beyond the bra's fabric, and realized that it must be something to keep her nipples covered.

As the song ended, Kara tipped five, knowing she would be shelling out even more soon, as soon as Layla London walked back out the door she was currently sliding into, handing the mic back to Delia.

"I hope you've enjoyed our second act," Delia grinned. "One more to go, and oh, it's a doozy. You'll need more drinks for this. And so will we. Don't forget, you can order us drinks from any of the beautiful bartenders tonight. Just specify the lovely lady you're buying for, and they'll take care of the rest. Ten minutes, lovelies, and we'll be back to show you...everything."

Kara stood up as Delia walked off. She had more shots to buy and more vodka to consume. Although god, she wished this wasn't a human bar and she could get Aldebaran rum. She had a sinking feeling she would stop functioning the second Lena unhooked her final bra and dropped it on the floor.

\--

"I think the baby dyke's getting comfy," Alaina remarked as she stuffed herself into her final corset and shot the vodka that Kara had bought her.

"We can't have that," Lena giggled as she clipped on her cape. "We can't have that at all. We've got to give her the show of her life." -And we will.- Perhaps it was evil of her, teasing her sweet bestie like this, but Kara would still have secrets after tonight, and Lena would have none. Especially not after two shots of Van Horne plus about five of Bombay Sapphire and Hendrick's. She had to play true to her British role, after all.

"Mads, you're absolutely diabolical!" Mandy helped Lena's wig lie flat and as natural as possible. "Do you know her or something?"

"You could say that," Lena shrugged. "I can neither confirm or deny that I might work with her." Still technically the truth, but a safe enough bet.

"Oh my -god-, is she an accountant too?" Rachel giggled as she carefully eased off her fake eyelash that was coming undone and began to reapply glue.

Lena waggled her eyebrows and shrugged dramatically in the way that meant "yes, she definitely is".

Taylor squealed. "Madison Parker, you are the -woooorst-. Do you think she recognizes you?"

"Nope." Lena checked her lips in the mirror and decided to add just a -little- more gold glitter. "She'd know me by my hair, and I haven't shown that tonight."

"So, is she really a chapstick baby dyke?" Mandy leaned in. "I mean, that you've noticed."

"Well, she -was- a bit -too- chummy with our prior boss," Lena drawled. "In that sort of way that tells you it's more than a professional relationship. The entire office would have loved to bang that particular VP, though." Yes, she was talking shit about her predecessor Cat Grant, but it was true. Everyone who hadn't been outright terrified of CatCo's CEO had dreamed of fucking her, and that Venn diagram had far, far too much overlap anyway.

"Nice!" Alaina replied. "So maybe poor chappie's still stuck on boss lady."

"I couldn't blame her if she was," Lena responded glibly. "Do I look all right?"

"Darling, you have no idea how much I want to wear all that lipstick right now while finding out how much stress those buckles can take," Alaina purred.

"I think we should take bets. Will baby dyke end up with a lapful of Mads in front of God and everyone, or will Mads end up with a lapful of drunk chapstick on her taxi ride home?"

Lena rolled her eyes. "And if I don't want to date inside the office?"

"No one said you had to -date-, cara mia," Rachel cooed at Lena. "Just take her home or go home with her. You can wear the green wig and she'll never be the wiser."

"Oh, you are an -asshole-," Lena laughed, tossing an extra pasty at her.

"I bet Mads basically gives her a lapdance but the chappie's too scared to take her home," Taylor said.

"I bet the chappie falls in love tonight and follows Mads home like a puppy," Mandy put in.

Lena smirked. -You have no idea how much of a puppy that woman actually is.- "And if neither outcome occurs?"

"I win," Alaina replies smoothly. "Because I think the poor little baby dyke will drop dead of embarrassment before she admits she wants to ride Mads like a carousel pony, and our stiff upper lipped Brit is far too respectful of a lady's virtue to take advantage of her like that."

"Oh, now, she's been drooling over all of us," Lena argued.

"You should have seen her eyes as you did your Green Lantern," Mandy replied. "I've never seen anything so intense in at least the last several months."

"Can I help it if I'm beautiful?" Lena grinned. "So, let me go last tonight. If you want to have any chance of winning your bet."

"Done," Mandy replied. "I'll take your original place in the rotation, and Alaina can do a little emceeing herself, so your appearance is a -complete- surprise."

Lena knew the smile on her face was entirely too evil, but she couldn't help it. "Thank you, darling."

\--

Kara was on pins and needles. Delia's veiled threat to show "everything" would absolutely be her undoing. And she couldn't back out now, not after two-thirds of the show and two rounds for the troupe. She'd just wait for Lena, and laser herself through the floor and directly to the other side of the planet the nanosecond the bra came off. Absolutely solid plan, yes.

Delia sauntered back in to unsteady, drunken cheering. "Well, dolls, you made it to the last set. You've been so very patient, and so accommodating with your tips and drinks, that we're rewarding you now. You wanted it, you paid for your ticket to see it, and now, it's titty time, motherfuckers!"

Kara clamped down on her eardrum shielding as everyone around her went wild. She did the best she could to cheer along with them.

"First up. She's wild, she's beautiful, she was struck by a thunderbolt and has the world's best catchphrase as a result. Please welcome Koko Luxe as Shazam!"

Kara should have been prepared. She absolutely should have seen it coming. But all brain function ground to a -complete- halt when, coinciding with the climax of the song, Koko whipped off her red and gold bra, her boobs defying gravity and revealing shiny yellow pasties in the shape of Billy Batson's lightning bolt logo. She was almost too stunned to tip, but tip she did, four dollars.

"Our next heroine comes from under the sea, but tonight, she's part of our world. Oops, did I veer too close to a trademark?" Delia winked exaggeratedly. "I mean a redhead merwoman, I do. But this one's name is Brittany Bubbles, and she's your Mera tonight!"

Brittany was back to sexy dancing rather than comedy, and Kara couldn't take her eyes off the shiny spandex booty shorts printed with sparkling mermaid scales. Her brain was rapidly power cycling now, booting up enough to recognize that beautiful women were getting mostly naked in front of her, and that Lena would as well, shortly. Lena, her beautiful, sexy, perfect best friend was going to show the entire room her boobs and--divide by cucumber error reboot--Brittany was taking off the stylized clam shells on her chest to reveal pearl pasties?! She tipped three dollars, because it was what she could get out quickly. She swore Brittany could see the flickering blue fatal error screen behind her eyes, judging from the smirk she was given as the bills dropped in.

Koko took the mic from Delia. "Someone has to go put her own outfit on," the woman purred into the mic, "so I'm taking over this time."

Kara officially loved Koko Luxe's voice. It was smooth and low, Marlene Dietrich without the smoking-induced burr. She had shrugged on a fairly useless robe and supported her -sizable assets- again with the Captain America bra. Which was good, because Kara wouldn't be able to focus on Lena when it was her turn if Koko's breasts were still on display.

"You knew we had to get her in here sometime, and the entire troupe might have had a sexy spat or two over who got to be this heroine for your viewing pleasure. Here she is, our pretty Prissy Plumeria as the kick-ass sapphic darling who haunts all of our dreams, Wonder Woman!"

Kara couldn't help but smile. Diana would definitely enjoy this. Prissy had clearly taken the time with the accessories, the bracelets and tiara being real metal even as the rest of the outfit was flimsy, skimpy costumewear. The way Prissy struck the iconic poses Diana was known for with a sexy twist helped Kara regain her mental footing, because she could imagine how much Diana would enjoy the routine. But then Prissy flung her bra away, and her pasties were shiny red stars, and Kara lost any ability she might have had to function. When Prissy swaggered around with the tip glass, Kara smiled dopily up at her and tipped four, because she had it ready this time.

"And now, our ringleader Delia Danger performing a little number for you as the villain we all want to be sometimes, if only to have the chance to wear all that shiny patent leather." Koko grinned. "I present to you, Batman's sexiest nemesis, Catwoman!"

Delia slunk on in about one square foot total of the promised patent leather, black elastic straps doing the rest of the coverup work. Kara tried to enjoy the scene as Delia did sort of a scarf dance with the straps, removing them one by one. But she couldn't help but wonder what was under the two scraps of leather crossing Delia's chest, and then what was to come. She couldn't quite enjoy it when Delia let the top drop to show pink cartoon cat heads, because she was already simultaneously craving and dreading what would happen shortly. Her smile was glassy as she tipped four dollars, and then she sat back in her seat, projecting confidence she absolutely did not feel.

Delia took the mic back from Koko, but she didn't bother to put anything back on over herself. She just let it go, shimmying her shoulders a bit so the cats on her boobs would bounce. As Delia opened her mouth to speak, Kara held her breath. This was -it-. The next few minutes would be her absolute destruction.

"Our last act of the night, which we know you've all been waiting for, is the stunning, amazing, practically perfect in every way Layla London as National City's resident hero, Supergirl!"

The kitten darted out with a folding chair and set it up. Kara held her breath as Lena sauntered out, hands on her hips in the iconic pose that Kara struck as her alter ego.

The outfit was a marvel of subversion. The cape was accurate to length and drape, but the sparkly crop-top bearing the crest of El barely covered her breasts. Her stomach was criss-crossed in blue buckled straps, disappearing below a gold belt and a tiny sparkly red skirt. The thigh-highs matched the shirt, but were sheer. The red boots only came halfway up Lena's calves, but the sparkly blue kneepads more than made up for it. On her arms, she wore sparkly blue arm warmers with the thumb loop, just like Kara's first edition super suit.

Kara understood now why Lena's eyes were made up in blue, red, and gold. To match this final outfit.

Prissy started the song, and as the bass thumped and Missy Elliott began murmuring how supa dupa fly she was, Lena began to dance.

Every nanosecond was agony for Kara. Especially when Lena began using the chair to enhance her movements, even flipping upside down on it and scissoring her legs in the air while staring -directly at Kara.-

Lena did take her time with everyone in the front row, smiling or licking her lips or, in a few cases, running her fingertips down their thighs. Kara fought the entirely irrational urge to beat them all unconscious for being her rivals. Especially the blonde woman three seats down who was used as support while Lena rolled her hips almost to the floor and then back up.

But the finale was her complete undoing. Lena straddled her, hands clamped firmly on her chair back, and -ground down on her- while making eye contact and -removing that damn bra- with a flourish so everyone in the room could see her final surprise.

Twin House of El crests greeted Kara, firmly in place where Lena's nipples had to be. And Kara lost all rational thought. -She's wearing...on her...Rao...-

Kara looked back up at Lena quickly, mouthed her name but thankfully didn't say it aloud, and before she knew it, her hand had flown to Lena's thigh and -almost- grabbed on, settling for freezing against her skin painfully and then snatching the offending hand away immediately. Rule number one, left for dead in the dumpster. Rule number five was most likely "Don't call the dancers by their real names," another one in the trash as well.

Lena snarled and stood up, backing away from her. Kara knew her expression was scared, piteous, probably visibly traumatized.

"Never touch the dancers!" the woman next to her hissed. "God, why'd you even come if you can't control yourself?"

"It's all right," Lena told the woman as she walked up again with the martini glass, neutral yet pleasant expression in place again. "She's new. I know she didn't mean it. Did you, little lovely?"

"No, no, I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me." While babbling, Kara pulled out her last two singles and a ten, stuffing them in the martini glass as Lena's glare pinned her to her seat.

Lena did her full rounds with the glass before stalking off, leaving it in the hands of the kitten and presumably going to the dressing room.

"You're lucky Layla isn't saying anything," the woman next to her growled. "I've seen men get thrown out and banned for less."

Kara hung her head. "I know, I suck. This was my first show, too."

"First Blue Phoenix or first burlesque?"

"First burlesque," Kara whispered. She knew her cheeks were completely on fire.

"You're really lucky," the woman replied, a little less venom in her tone. "Layla could probably tell and that's why she won't say anything to have you banned."

-She won't because I'm her best friend,- Kara cried silently. -I love her and I just broke all of our boundaries even if we didn't know we had them.- She nodded. "I'm grateful. I won't be getting front row again for awhile, though."

"The show is still just as good in the cheaper seats," the woman said reassuringly. "You're willing to learn from this, which is a lot more than I can say for some."

"Thanks," Kara sighed.

\--

Lena pulled off the last of her Supergirl outfit, but left the pasties on as she hastily pulled on a bra and the rest of her clothing.

"Damn, Mads..." Taylor said quietly. "She got you good."

"Looks like none of you win," Lena said darkly, ripping off her false eyelashes as quickly and carefully as she could. "Because I'm taking that little baby dyke home. Now."

"I thought you didn't like her that much," Mandy teased.

"She and I have a bit more of a history than I originally disclosed," Lena replied.

"Good luck, doll," Alaina said, her smile just a little sad. Lena's heart fluttered in response. They both knew this was goodbye to their casual trysts. Lena was cracked wide open, emotions and heart raw and bleeding. Alaina could never be part of that depth, and Lena would never doom her to such a thing.

Lena pulled on her sneakers and tied them as quickly as she could. "Oh, shit. I have to clean up my things."

"No, you don't," Andi said from behind her, softly. "I can clean it up and keep it for you til the next show."

Lena whirled around. "Andi?"

"Go get the girl," Andi whispered as she hugged Lena's neck.

Lena exited the backstage area to find Kara next in line to pay her tab, fists clenched and breathing far too heavily for normal.

Kara paid her tab numbly. Everything had backfired. She wasn't supposed to have that reaction. Lena saw it. Lena knew. Oh god. She could never look her friend in the face again. Not after watching her family crest bob merrily in tandem on Lena's perfect breasts.

"Had a good time?" the bartender asked.

Kara plastered on a dopey smile for him. "You were right! I loved it."

"Well, come back Saturday after next. The theme will be different, and the costumes will be amazing."

Kara scribbled her signature and a generous tip. Altogether, she was sure she was out at least a hundred and fifty dollars on her card alone. But she couldn't care. It was time to run, time to fly home and berate herself while dealing with the situation between her legs that -being gay for her best friend- had caused.

But she got no more than a foot outside the bar doors then she was pulled into the shadows off to one side. In her altered emotional state, she didn't react right away.

"Take off the wig, Kara." Lena's voice was harsh, and Kara fumbled to obey even as the hand on her chest held her against the building.

"Why are you here?" Lena's tone was furious, demanding, sharper than an entire block of knives.

"I wanted to know where you go when you...disappear." Kara bit her lip hard.

"What did you expect you'd find?" Lena's eyes burned holes in her, even with the indigo contacts completely obstructing her normal light green.

"I had no idea," Kara faltered. "I just knew it couldn't be bad. So I was curious."

"And my being a burlesque dancer in my ever-vanishing free time was not at -all- what you expected," Lena hissed.

"Oh Rao, you're so beautiful," Kara whimpered, unable to help herself.

Lena inhaled sharply. "Yeah? When I'm caked in makeup and half-naked and flaunting it, that's when I'm beautiful to you?"

"Rao, I'm sorry," Kara gasped, tears forming in her eyes. "That's not what I meant, you're so beautiful no matter what you're wearing or doing and I just wanted to touch you and this ruins us forever, I know it."

"Tell me one more thing. Why did you react so strangely to my last costume?" Lena's glare bored into Kara. -Tell me the truth or this is over, Danvers.-

"You already know that answer, I think," Kara replied, voice strangled.

"Tell me aloud, Kara." Lena leaned in so Kara's lips were next to her ear. "Whisper if you must."

"Because you're dressing up as me," Kara managed to whisper. "You know that. Maybe you've always known that."

Lena tapped, not gently, on the scar over Kara's eye that had always been the marker for Lena to remind herself her best friend was a liar, even if she had already worked out that it was for her own protection. "Yes. From the day we met, I knew about you. Your cousin is terrible at hiding, and he taught you, that much was clear."

Kara wanted to crumple. "Do you hate me, Lee?"

"Don't you call me that here," Lena hissed. "I'm Layla. Or Madison. You don't call me anything else in this city, do you understand?"

Kara nodded frantically. "Do you hate me, Layla? Please don't hate me."

"I would if you had lied just now." Lena sighed, the exhalation aggressive. "But you didn't."

"Because no one can hear me here," Kara breathed. "No one can threaten to erase your memory."

"Fucking jesus," Lena snapped. "Is that it? Your government puppet overlords make you keep it from me, like I'm the biggest idiot in my family?"

"They underestimate you," Kara whimpered. "All of them. Always. Except me."

"You could have found a way to tell me before now, Kara."

Kara shook her head. "Not in National City. I can't even breathe freely there."

"Neither can I," Lena growled. "That's why I come here. To be free."

"Layla..." Kara's tears threatened to spill over. "Do you hate me?"

"No. As stupid as I am for it, I love you, Kara. I love your stupid lying face. You know all of my secrets now. Do I know all of yours?"

Kara's face crumpled. "One more thing."

"I'm all ears."

"Iwannakissyousobaditkillsme."

Lena blinked. "Pardon?" She was sure she'd heard that correctly, yes, but it was far too fast for absolute certainty.

"I want to kiss you," Kara repeated, slower this time. "I've wanted to for years. You're so beautiful, so perfect, so so so smart, so good and noble and lovely and I'm so in love with you." Kara took a sharp breath and continued. "You're my hero and I die a little every time I'm near you and we're alone but I can't find the courage to ask if I can kiss you and I'm always so scared I'll screw what we have up but it's all screwed up now and my last secret is I want to kiss you and I don't want to be your best friend, I want to be your girlfriend!"

Lena growled and slammed her lips on Kara's, pushing her back into the wall with angry, frustrated, pent-up sexual tension.

Kara's knees buckled but she held on, letting Lena's tongue punch through her lips and managing to just barely slip her hands around Lena's waist. Lena felt so good, even while angry. She tasted of lip gloss and white-hot fury, gin and secrets, darkness and love. Kara just let her drive the kiss, doing anything she wanted. She knew she was wearing that golden gloss now, all over her face, and possibly some of the lipstick, too. Kara whimpered into Lena's mouth when Lena slid her hands down and grabbed Kara's ass, hard.

"You wanna be mine?" Lena growled against Kara's lips. "That's what you really want?"

"It's all I wanted for years," Kara cried. "You know everything now, I'll do anything for you, please..."

"Then put your hands on me," Lena snarled. "Fucking prove it, right here, Kara."

Kara took a deep breath, and then carefully used her super strength to flip them around so Lena was trapped against the wall, Kara's entire body holding her there. Kara slid her hands down Lena's arms, gripping around her wrists and pinning them against the wall at shoulder level.

Lena's chest heaved with emotion and being entirely startled at the new position. "This isn't what I asked."

Kara pressed between Lena's knees with her own, forcing a gap to open up and slide into. "I don't wanna put my hands on you if I can't call you what I want to. And when you can't have your real voice. Not here."

"Where?" Lena let Kara's thigh press against her, biting her lip at the sparks that shot through her core.

"My bed. Unless you have a better idea, -Layla-."

Lena took a deep breath. "All right."

Kara leaned back, scooping Lena from the wall to press against her, feet just an inch or two off the ground. "Don't you move."

Lena slipped her arms around Kara's neck in response. It felt weird, being midair like this, but one of Kara's arms was locked around her shoulders and the other under her ass, so she was supported and safe.

It was nothing to carry Lena back behind the building, and they flew off safely into the night, towards the twinkling lights of National City.

\--

Kara took Lena straight in through the windows. "I don't want any questions," she told her, quick and low.

Lena nodded and held on until Kara set her down on the bed.

"Can you -please- take my hair off?" Kara asked, urgently, with a hint of despair. She realized her mouth felt damp and she rubbed the back of her hand across it. Yep, shiny gloss mixed with gold powder and a little bit of red. She kept wiping til she couldn't feel anything on her face anymore, and smeared it on a spare shirt tossed over a chair. It would wash.

Lena nodded again and began pulling out the pins that held the carefully curled blonde wig on, as well as the ones holding her braided hair to her head. She also, unconsciously, rubbed the last of the lipstick off her face, wiping it on her jeans.

Kara just stood there and watched. Lena looked so unlike herself, but so -adorable- in casual clothes. Combined with the heavy makeup still on her face, it was quite a sight. The wide-necked black shirt falling off one shoulder and covering the tops of both hands, the ripped jeans tight across her thighs but falling wider from her knees to the floor, and the Converse low-tops all served to remind Kara that, for all Lena's power and money and glamour, she was still only twenty-six. They were, if you didn't count the years Kara spent in the Phantom Zone, only three years apart in age. Kara always felt like Lena was older than her, somehow, always wearing designer high heels and expensive names, the -armor- that kept her the powerful Luthor heiress. But not now, not this moment where she's shaking out her hair all wavy from the braids and her eyes are smeared with unholy amounts of pigment but her sneaker toes are turning inwards toward each other and Kara wants to fall at her feet and beg to be loved by this soft, fragile nymph who's just appeared in front of her tired, thirsty wanderer.

"Kara?" Lena was looking at her now, all her Coast City bravado and anger gone, British accent vanished. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Kara smiled, scoffing just a little bit. "Because you're so beautiful like this, Lena."

"Really?" Lena blinked, and then frowned as she realized her eyes had dried out from flying. "Oh. Crap. I didn't bring my contacts case."

"Hang on." Kara darted to the kitchen and fished two sauce ramekins out of her cabinets, bringing them back to the bedroom. "I don't think I have any contact solution, though."

"Kara," Lena replied gently, "it doesn't matter. They're just disposable. They wouldn't last another week anyway." She looked up at Kara, revealing that she'd already taken them out and her eyes were back to their light green, the kryptonite of Kara's heart.

"Oh..." Kara set the ramekins down on the nightstand, and Lena dropped the two blue lenses into one of them.

Lena stood up, closing the distance between them, and cupped Kara's cheek in her hand.

Kara closed her eyes briefly in appreciation of the touch, before looking down into the deep green pools of Lena's trusting eyes.

"Still wanna be mine?" Lena whispered.

"I'll do anything to be," Kara breathed, slipping her arms around Lena's waist and marveling at how perfectly she fit.

"Good." Lena pulled her head down, agonizingly slow and gentle, until their lips met.

Kara whimpered as Lena kissed her. She couldn't help it. Everything she'd ever wanted since she moved to National City was now in her arms. And as soon as Lena broke for air, she pushed her gently backwards onto the bed.

Lena giggled as her back hit the mattress, and she looked up at Kara, biting her lip.

"Oh by Rao, every time you -do- that I just want to kiss you senseless!"

"Show me what that feels like?" Lena tucked an arm behind her head, her expression still unsure but hopeful, so hopeful, and Kara felt herself fall even deeper.

Kara crawled onto her bed, making sure both her knees were between Lena's as she lowered herself down. Lena smiled just before Kara's lips claimed hers, because this -was- happening and it was -real-.

Lena shortly found out that "senseless" meant "breathless" and "thorough" and "swollen lips" and "fluttery" and a whole bunch of other adjectives and states of mind she couldn't even begin to name. But then she realized something that freaked her out.

"Kara, my shoes are still on. They're on your bed!"

Kara sat back, running her hands down Lena's legs. "They're adorable, and I love you in them. I don't care."

Lena bit her lip. "You have no idea what sort of streets they've walked."

"Fine." Kara scooted back, slowly and carefully unlacing one sneaker and removing it. She set it down beside the bed and quirked an eyebrow, stroking Lena's socked foot gently.

Lena's breathing was definitely elevated. She hadn't known having someone take off her ratty Chucks could ever be erotic.

Kara gave the other shoe the same careful treatment, and then she kicked off her own shoes. "There. Happy now?" She smirked.

"I'm sure your duvet thanks you," Lena replied, hooking her ankles around Kara's waist to nudge her back to where she'd been before the interruption.

Kara crawled back over her, eyes intense. "Any more ridiculously practical objections before I obey an order given to me elsewhere?"

Lena shook her head and reached for Kara, pulling her down into a heavy, burning, slow kiss. She willed National City to just take care of its stupid self for a few more hours. Kara Danvers, aka Supergirl, had a Luthor in her bed, and clearly intended to keep her there for as long as possible. At least, given how she was pressing Lena into the mattress with her entire body, it seemed that way.

"I love this shirt on you," Kara murmured into her neck after some lovely, sustained attention to it, "and I want you to keep it here so you can wear it all the time around me, but right this minute -it has to go-."

"Get it off me then." Lena lifted her arms and tipped her head forward when signaled, and Kara consigned it to the floor with a gentle flick.

"Oh. Oh..."

"What's wrong, Kara?"

"Did you...did you take the things...off...?"

Lena blushed. "No...I was in such a hurry trying to catch you before you left that it was either the lashes or the pasties, and the lashes won."

Kara smiled. "I think I -like- you wearing my house crest, Lena. Shows we belong to each other. But maybe I can take these specific ones off forever?"

Lena smiled back. "Be gentle. They're glued on."

**Author's Note:**

> If your local burly troupe isn't like Blue Phoenix, I'm sorry. Mine is, and we have a lot of fun. Yours should be too. ;)
> 
> If I had any artistic talent (which I don't), I'd close this out with a drawing of happy!Kara in a Layla's Lookers shirt, $$ in her hand for the next show.


End file.
